


Kingpin

by WoxliMischief



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gang Violence, Gun Violence, Loss of Innocence, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoxliMischief/pseuds/WoxliMischief
Summary: Tora has given up fighting himself over what he wants, but can he keep her. And can he keep both of them safe as he walks a dangerous line between a loving relationship and the darkness that threatens to swallow both of them?
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 40
Kudos: 94





	1. Romance and Reality

**Author's Note:**

> This is a diverging Grim-Dark AU that intends to branch from the moment Quincy signs his editorial contract. Any resemblance to the comic is coincidental and completely unintentionally done. 
> 
> Lilydusk's Fan Work Guidelines 
> 
> Fanwork creator is free to create any kinds of fan creations and share them on any public or private platform as long as the creator acknowledges that:  
> 1\. No profit is to be made from fan creation.  
> 2\. Any resemblance that the original piece bears to fan creation is coincidental and unintentional,  
> 3\. Fan creation is to be a transformative work, derived from a single idea, a single sketch, or a small percentage of the original piece.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

_ “Quinceton I swear to fuck, whatever you’re involving her in better not-” _

“ _ Booboo, really, stop worrying. She edits books.” Quincey fluttered his eyelashes at him. Tora stared at him blankly. “Seriously, she’s the best editor I’ve ever had. She understands my vision and actually reads the genre! She’s been a huge help developing my latest work.” _

_ “The one with the duke or whatsit? She reads that kinky shit?” Tora raised an interested eyebrow, but shook it off, “Besides the point. Quince, I know what you’re fuckin’ up to. You ain’t subtle. I don’t need your fuckin’ help to pick up women.” _

Thud. Thud. Thud.

_ “Oh, honey, I know that. You do need help with  _ this _ girl though. She’s not an Ares street stripper. Plus, that’s not why I’m workin’ with her.” _

“ _ Bullshit.” Tora fisted Quincey’s collar, his stare cold. _

“ _ Listen I totally planned to play a little matchmaker, but seriously I love the little poppet. She’s three parts sweet and one part psycho. I might keep her to mySEEELF!” Tora shook him, propelling him back into a wall _ .  _ “I’m kidding!” _

_ “You little fuckin’ shit. I was tryin’ ta keep her OUT OF THE WAY. I walked away from her, and now you put her in the fuckin’ crosshairs? I won’t have it, Quincey.” _

_ “B-B--But think of it this way. If she’s my editor, no one in the clan will think twice about why you have to spend time with her. It’s a good cover. You get a reason to keep her around that doesn’t put a tag on her.” _

_ “It don’t work that simple, Q,”Tora dropped him unceremoniously and grunted. “She’s stuck with it now though. First time she gets hurt, I’m takin’ it out of your ass.” Quincey gulped, and nodded with a manic enthusiasm. _

THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

Tora tore into the heavy bag, feeling each impact through his forearms despite the tight wrappings on his hand. He kept landing blows, trying to push his fists through the bag, rage churning in his guts like bile with nowhere to go.

_ Fuckin’ meddlin’ ass little dandy.- _ Tora couldn’t remember the last time he was actually angry at Quincey. Sure, they’d scrapped like kids who grow up together do. He gave the little poof a lot of shit, but he’d looked out for Quince like a brother. Had to. 

Today was the first time he could recall actually wanting to kill the boss’s boy. Working his muscles to exhaustion didn’t help. Hitting something wasn’t helping. He caught the heavy bag in both hands, leaning into it and drawing in slow, shuddering breaths to bring his heart rate back down. 

He snatched his phone off the bench and thumbed it open, pausing on the messaging screen, heart hammering again. He huffed out a breath before firing off _ -We gotta talk. I’ll be over in an hour. Want me to bring ya food? -T _

Throwing his towel over one shoulder he marched into the bathroom to shower the rest of his mood away before he saw her again.

  
  
  
  
  


Poppy padded through her apartment, hair dripping, towel clasped tight around her, languid from the long bath she’d indulged in. The whole dang month had been one long adventure, and adventure was beginning to seem overrated. She wanted to curl up in her bed with a naughty book and forget about her life for a while. 

So of course her phone was flashing a notification. 

_ -We gotta talk. I’ll be over in an hour. Want me to bring ya food? -T  _

Sent forty-eight minutes ago.

- _ If you’re asleep, I’m just gonna wake you up. Hope you’re wearing PJs, Sweetheart -T,  _ from five minutes ago. Poppy let out an outraged squeak and stomped to her bedroom closet, muttering about giant high-handed thugs. She yanked on a pair of soft shorts and a tank top, and rubbed the towel in her hair vigorously, trying to work most of the water out. 

She was still yanking the brush through her hair when the heavy knock sounded at her door. “Of course he didn’t buzz at the gate. He probably just broke in. Fudgin’ jerk, still doing whatever he wants -” She jerked the door open then stopped in her tracks, mouth hanging open. 

How had she forgotten how imposing he was? How beautiful too. She drank him in from the ground up; thick, powerful legs draped in midnight slacks, flat belly and broad chest more revealed than covered by a lazily buttoned dress shirt. He filled up her doorway, one hand braced casually on the top of the frame, gold eyes burning down at her and her thoughts flew away with her anger. “Come on in,” she croaked out, gesturing with her brush.

He set a white pastry box on her low table. “Didn’t get an answer so I brought caramel muffins again. You basically run on sugar, anyhow.” She watched him search the room, something she noticed every time he walked through a door, like he was mentally cataloguing everything he saw. 

“You don’t have to bring me something every time you see me, Tora,” she admonished, but she lifted the lid and took a big bite of a muffin anyway. “What brings you to my door at two in the morning? Something happen to Quincey?”

“I haven’t killed him yet, if that’s what ya mean.” He grinned at her, the rare sight of his dimpled smile setting her heart tripping over itself. “Naw, I’m surrendering. You’re Q’s editor, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it. What I ain’t gonna do is let him make you complacent. So we’re gonna sit down and I’m gonna explain how this bodyguard thing works. If you can’t stay away from us, being ignorant will only get you dead.”

Poppy gave him a suspicious look and munched on her muffin, considering. “You’re giving up too easily. What do you want?” She continued to munch through her glare.

He couldn’t help his chuckle, “Oh we’ll get to that later. Let’s focus on keepin’ your cute lil’ ass safe, alright? I think you caught on that Q’s a big deal. I told you his dad is my boss, and I guard him. What you need to know is Vincent Balthumen isn’t someone to fuck with, and you don’t want his attention. As Quincey’s editor, you shouldn’t get it, but we gotta be real fuckin’ careful, Sweetheart. If he ever suspects that I even notice you exist, you become a target. He’s always looking for something to control me. Vincent thinks Q’s little book thing is a phase, and lets him have his toys. That means when y’all are meeting and ANYONE else is around, I don’t see you. You’re invisible. It’s not personal, got it?”

She swallowed a lump of muffin that suddenly felt dry and sandy, “So, in public, you don’t know me. Got it. Not a big surprise.” She tried and failed not to sound glum about it. His big hand closed around her wrist and he sat, pulling her down beside him on the floor.

“It’s not like that, Bobby, and you know it. I did my fuckin’ best to keep you out of this, but it’s too late for that now. Now I gotta act like you ain’t as important as you fuckin’ are. People important to me are targets. Q’s got fuckin’ rose colored glasses on, because he doesn’t have to get his hands dirty. I’m not gonna let him lie to you. That means y’all can’t gossip about me in front of the other guards either. I’m gonna try to minimize your exposure to the other thugs, but I can’t watch him every minute of the day.”

She popped the last of the muffin in her mouth and considered him, “You’re really worried about this. Okay, I can pretend you don’t exist. What else? There’s got to be more.”

“If yer going out in public with him, ya need to make him take a guard. No guard, no shoppin’, no facials, none of that other girly shit he likes. I’d rather he takes two, if ya go with him. Text me if ya have to and I’ll send some guys. He’ll downplay the danger, but I need ya to be smarter than him.”

“What about business meetings? Publishing houses and such. Do you have any thugs that don’t look so thuglike?” She brought her knee up and rested her chin on it, taking mental notes. 

“Good, you’re takin’ this seriously. I think I can manage some harmless lookin’ thugs if you tell me when you need ‘em. This ain’t just about Q, though. I need you to be safe too, Sweetheart. That means if some bad shit does start up, you gotta promise you’ll get down and not start pickin’ fights. I know you’re a mean little hamster with big brass balls, but you gotta get out of the way, for my sanity, got it?”

“Run away and hide. Got it. Anything else?” She quipped at him, letting out an exasperated sigh. He looked at her out of the side of his eye. “Hey if you’re going to interrupt my night off, you just have to deal with the sass.”

“Yeah, color me surprised. Keep your taser on you. And if I give you an order out there, just follow it. I’m not doing it for my health, I’ll be doin’ it for yours and Quincey’s.” He sat up suddenly and loomed over her. She swallowed hard and nodded. “Good.” He slumped back against the wall again, and slid his hand from where it had a hold of her wrist down to rub circles on the back of her hand. His huge calloused hand swallowed hers up, and she felt shivers starting at the base of her spine from that small contact. 

“That all?” She asked him with a sassy little moue to her lips. He nodded his assent and she climbed to her feet. “Well I was planning to read a book in bed, so if you don’t have anything more to lecture me about, I think I’ll get back to my plans.” She noticed that standing she still wasn’t much taller than his seated form and she became even more disgruntled at the amused glitter to his gold eyes.

“So you were gonna read one of your pervy books and think about me the rest of the night?” He challenged her with a smirk, chuckling when she sputtered an incoherent protest. “Sweetheart, I’m done with the lecture but I’m not done talkin' to ya. We got one more thing to address. You might want to sit back down.” He patted the floor beside him.

She cocked her hip and stayed standing, defiant, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the hand he still had wrapped around hers. “What, do I need to sign an NDA for you too?” She huffed at him, one foot tapping impatiently.

He gazed up her arm, letting the silence stretch between them, his face suddenly predatory. Hungry. “Nah, Sweetheart, we gotta talk about that eye-fuckin’ you gave me when you opened the door.” 

Poppy blanched and her eyes widened to saucers, “I-I-I h-have no idea what you are talking about,” she stammered, trying to back away, but he held her wrist firmly, tugging her right back in front of him. “I would never eye-f-u-u…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, biting her lower lip in a furious flush. She  _ had _ checked out his body, and not for the first time. She would  _ not _ , however, give him the satisfaction of hearing it out of her mouth. He was smug enough.

“Uh-huh. Sure you wouldn’t. Sweetheart, it ain’t even the first time I’ve caught you doin’ it. I know when I’m gettin’ checked out. I don’t normally like it much.” He drew her hand up and flipped it over, grazing the heel of her palm lightly with his mouth, “Kinda love it when you do it, Bobby.” He closed his lips over the pulse in her wrist, golden eyes drilling into her. Her knees buckled and he caught her as she fell forward. She covered her eyes with her palms, pressing in hard as she felt herself scooped into his arms.  _ Is this really happening?- _ she wondered to herself as he shifted them both so she sat beside him, her legs drawn across his, one of his strong arms supporting her back. She gulped. “Are you gonna talk to me, or sit there looking like a doe caught in a trap?” he grumbled at her, playing with the damp end of her hair.

“I’m still thinking about it,” she snapped back at him, her heart fluttering in her chest like a trapped bird. “I don’t know what you’re asking me this for anyway,” she lied. She had an inkling. His chuckle told her he knew it, too.

“Okay, I suppose it’s time for a little more honesty from me. I was worried you’d found something you shouldn’t in the bushes the day we met. So I searched your apartment. Quincey has almost all the same books you do, and I know what kind of books he reads, Sweetheart. You can’t pull that innocent shit on me, anymore. I already saw past it, remember?” The smug bastard was grinning at her, outright. She slugged his arm, a tiny pout on her face, and he just laughed more. “You’re too cute for your own good,” he hummed at her, his huge, warm hand rubbing circles on her back.

“I knew you searched the apartment. I’m not stupid and you’re not as subtle as you think you are, Tora. I knew you were trying to get rid of me. I just didn’t think you’d care about my books. You could have just asked me, you know? I figured out pretty quickly you were trying to keep me out of trouble.” She glared at him, halfheartedly, more out of a desire to distract him than any real anger.

“And yer tryin’ ta change the subject. Nuh uh. I need you to answer me, before I go insane here.” He breathed, resting his forehead on her bare shoulder, breath a little strained. 

“You haven’t actually asked me a question,” Poppy returned with a haughty sniff, fidgeting her legs. He sat up, startled and peered at her, seemingly confused for a few long heartbeats.

“Well, damn. You’re right. Shit.” He reached behind him, scratching his head idly and she watched the muscles play beneath the tight shirt. Her mouth went a little dry, but her eyes snapped back to his when she heard another amused chuckle, “You’re doin’ it again, Sweetheart.” He pinched her chin, tilting her face up to look him in his glittering, predatory eyes. “I need to know if you want me as much as I want you. ‘Cause if you keep looking at me like I’m something to eat, I’m gonna have a fuckuva time keeping my hands off you if I gotta see you nearly every day. So, Poppylan Wilkes,” he growled at her, his voice rumbling through her whole body with this proximity, “d’ya wanna be my girl, or do I haveta get used to cold showers? I ain’t a safe man to be with, but I tried stayin’ away from ya and that shit blew up in my face. That’s done, unless you tell me to get the fuck out.”

She stared at him, poleaxed. “Wh-What? You want me to…” Her hands fluttered, as if trying to grab the words out of the air in front of her but they kept flying away. “What?” she asked stupidly. 

“Did ya think I was gonna ask you for some quick roll in the hay, Sweetheart?” He slid a rough, calloused palm against her cheek, curling his huge fingers behind her neck. “Fuck, if I’m goin’ to hell for touching you, I’m not doing it half way. And I’m definitely not gonna fuckin’ share. If we do this, I want all of you.”

Poppy’s skin was on fire, she was sure of it. Tora being this close was making muscles in her belly she didn’t know existed before jump and dance. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps. She raked his face with her gaze, and seeing nothing but blazing truth there, she decided. She speared her fingers into his thick, silky hair and closed the distance between them, clashing her mouth to his in another of her sweet, untutored kisses. 

“Thank fuck,” she heard him murmur against her mouth before he nipped her bottom lip, causing her to gasp, mouth falling open. He took over from there, his tongue gently coaxing hers, tasting her in gentle sips and nips. He kept one hand cupping her face, fingers playing with her hair, and the other gripped her hip and scooped her directly onto his lap, bringing her body in contact with his from shoulder to hip. She bit his bottom lip, experimentally, eliciting a groan that started deep in his chest and rumbled up through him. He thrust his tongue deep in her mouth, fingers digging into her hip and grinding her ass against the growing bulge in his slacks.

She fisted a hand in his shirt, hanging on through the assault on her senses that was making her legs shake. The way he devoured her mouth was heady, and made her blood rush in a way she definitely had not felt during the few lukewarm kisses she’d shared with Julri. She leaned into the kiss, rising to her knees, legs astride one of his powerful thighs, pushing him back into the wall. His hands spanned her ribs, sliding their heat up to cup her breasts, flicking at the nippes that strained against the thin cotton of her shirt. She gasped into his mouth, grinding into his thigh on instinct, the pressure against her core sending a frisson of pleasure up her spine. 

Her fingers started sliding beneath his shirt when he caught her wrists in his hands with a shuddering breath. He leaned his forehead against hers and murmured, “Sweetheart, I have to stop ya there. I want this so fuckin’ much but I didn’t bring protection. I ain’t takin’ any risks with ya I don’t have to.” He brushed kisses along her jaw, stroking her hair. 

She was still trembling in his arms a couple minutes later, her face flushed, mouth swollen. He looked at her and swore, “Fuck, Sweetheart, you look ripe and ready. You’re killin’ me here.” He swallowed hard.

“I-I want more but...I don’t...I don’t know…” she trailed off, burying her face in his neck, clinging on to him. He set her back just a bit, so he could look at her face. 

“What d’ya mean ‘I don’t know’, Sweetheart. Haven’t ya…?” His eyes widened in shock when she shook her head and tried to hide in his shoulder again. He threaded his fingers through her hair and murmured against her neck. “You and the ex-boyfriend didn’t ever-” he cut himself off when he felt her fingers dig into his arms. “I see...have you at least touched yourself when you read your dirty books?” She hiccuped a little, but she nodded against him and he slumped, relieved. “I can work with that.” He said in her ear, his voice husky again. “Stand up,” He ordered, voice suddenly stern. She shivered, and obeyed. 

He rose to his knees, sliding his hands up her torso and hooking her tiny tank top with his hands on the way. He sucked a breath through his teeth in a long hiss as he lifted the scrap of cloth away from her and drank her in. Her full breasts swelled up from her tiny ribs, over a softly rounded belly and curvy hips that disappeared into the bare cover of her shorts. “So fuckin’ perfect.” He growled lowered his mouth to graze his teeth over the pebbled bud of her pink nipple, plumping her beautiful tits in his hands before sliding his hands down her body and shucking her shorts and panties away. She let out a startled squeak to find herself totally exposed before him, and she tried to cover herself with her hands. He grabbed her wrists again, pulling her forward and nipping at the pulse of one wrist, his eyes blazing at her with weeks of longing that had been building in him. With a frustrated growl he spun her around and pulled her back on his lap, legs draped open over his thick thighs.  
  
“This is what’cha gonna do for me, gorgeous. You’re going to touch yourself like you do when you read your dirty books, but this time you’re gonna use my hand to do it,” Tora growled the command in her ear, on hand cupping her breast and tweaking her already sensitive nipple, the other already guiding itself under her hand where it rest on her thigh.

Poppy felt her blush growing from the base of her spine, up through her body to set her face aflame. She’d never been so  _ open _ to someone before and he was making her body shudder with soft caresses of his sinful mouth right under her ear. “Show me how you like it, Sweetheart,” she heard him order again, this time in a softer, cajoling voice that had her arching against him involuntarily, her hand squeezing down on the back of his.  _ Well, if he insists-  _ she thought with abandon. She hesitantly guided his large hand up her thigh to span her belly. His hot hand almost swallowed her torso, but the calloused tips of his fingers scratched against her skin, the roughness bringing gooseflesh with the friction of his skin on hers. She closed her eyes, leaning into him, moaning softly as she pulled his hand farther up her body and closed his fingers over the nipple of her neglected breast, pinching tight. He added a gentle roll of his fingers that had her hips jerking against his lap and brought a shaky breath in her ear. “D’ya like this, Sweetheart, when I play with these gorgeous tits with my big, rough hands?” he rasped against her skin, tweaking both of her nipples until she was just on the edge of pain and her back bowed. 

“Yes! Like that…” Poppy whimpered, the sensations more intense than when she touched herself that way. 

“Mmm, good girl.” He encouraged her with a lick to the shell of her ear and a nip to the ear lobe that brought a breathless giggle bubbling up out of her throat. “Does that tickle?” She could hear the amusement in his tone as he took note of the sensitivity. Feeling bold she grabbed his hand again, dragging it up to her mouth and slid his middle and ring fingers deep into her mouth, sucking on them firmly. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” he hissed out and threaded his fingers through her hair, fisting it near her scalp. She ignored the gentle warning, flicking her fingers over the rough pads of his fingers and drawing them out slowly with a gentle pop.

“You said you wanted me to do what I would do to myself. I always wet my fingers that way before I touch myself.” She ground out, pressing his hand to the flesh of her inner thigh, sliding the slickened fingers up to find her heat. She heard him curse again, and his fingers flexed under hers. She pressed those fingers against her folds, drawing them up through the wet flesh to the bundle of nerves at the apex. Lifting her hips to meet their questing hands she started moving him in slow agonizing circles that caught the pearl of her pleasure between his two strong fingers. Her head fell back on his shoulder with a gasp. 

She rode Tora’s fingers that way, pressing his hand into her, lifting her hips to meet them, catching a rhythm as she drove herself higher. She felt his other hand again, rough and demanding, splaying across her breast again, catching the nipple between his fingers the same way she played him like a puppeteer and worked her clit. She felt her stomach starting to clench, her inner muscles clamping and rippling, wanting something to grab onto. She whimpered, turning her face into his arm. “Please, more.” She let out a muffled plea into the bunched muscles of his bicep. 

She felt his other hand slide under her thigh, and a hot finger slid through the wet heat at her entrance. “Fuck, Sweetheart, can I?” He asked in her ear. 

She arched towards him and moaned, “Yes, please!” and was impaled by that thick, questing finger, while he continued to work her clit, now with more surety and pressure as her hand fell away. 

“That’s it, gorgeous, let go. Come all over my hands.” He growled at her, hooking his finger inside her and stroking against the sweet spot inside her she could never seem to reach. She shattered with a scream, teeth digging into his arm. He kept working her, wringing shudder after shudder out of her, until her legs went limp and she fell boneless into his arms. She looked up at him, heavy lidded. 

“That was wonderful. I want to...to…” She yawned, her body curling up on itself. “Want to do something for you…” Her sleepy murmurs came from his chest as he stroked her hair. 

“Next time, Sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.” A soft snore was her only answer. He stood with her in his arms, carrying her slight form easily, and strode into her bedroom, and he assessed the room. 

The window took up half the wall, and her bed was positioned right under it. He...couldn’t do this. Tora set her down on the low mattress gently and pulled it and her off of the frame, slowly lowering the few inches to the floor until it was away from the window. He shucked his slacks off, and tossed his shirt, crawling in behind her and pulling the blanket up over them. He held her in his arms, his back to the window, shielding her tiny body with his as he drifted off into a soft sleep. He made a mental note to help her rearrange the room tomorrow.


	2. Neon and Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some graphic violence here.

A muted pop echoed in the silent cab of the growling sports car, as Tora’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He ignored the sting when the muscles in his hands shifted from the tension. Tomorrow, he’d have blue and green bruises on the back of his hands; Poppylan would worry. Just thinking her name kicked up another adrenaline spike and his jaw clenched. Tora concentrated on breathing. 

_“The lights are so beautiful, aren’t they?” Poppylan asked him absently, leaning on one of the graffitied pillars at the top of Regina’s Peak. He might have missed her sweet, quiet voice but he had been watching her. He always watched her when she wasn’t looking._ _  
_ _  
__“Beautiful? Are ya kidding?” He asked her incredulously. The lights weren’t beautiful, not like she was. They were the colored tint that hid the dark, dirty underbelly of the city. Neon signs that turned dark pools of blood in alleys the same black as a rain puddle. They were the mask that the monster hid behind, letting all the little sheep think it was safe._

_ Those lights were a fuckin’ curse. He opened his mouth to tell her, but she stood there and her face was so relaxed. She was smiling and that horrible unease that always pulled her shoulders was gone; he couldn’t make himself ruin it for her. “It’s ‘lright I guess. Not as pretty as you though.”  _

_ “Yeah, right!” He heard the truth to it, even though she made it sound like she was joking. He stepped into her, surrounding her with his arms bringing his face right up to hers.  _

_ “Yeah. Right.” He said, seriously, pouring all the meaning of it into his eyes. He took her mouth savagely, trying to erase the pain he’d seen on her face and replace it with the joy she deserved. _

Tora shut off the car, equilibrium restored. He unfolded himself into the dark night and pasted his best blank expression on his face, and stalked into Miracle.    


The first thing he always noticed in this club was the smell. The unwashed funk of clandestine sex and unwashed violence made his fingers twitch toward his pocket for a cigarette. When he took his first drag and the nose blindness set in, he scanned the room. It was still early, and performers and cocktail waitresses were gathered in gossiping gaggles instead of circulating.    
  


The deep pockets weren’t here yet then. He took another long drag, taking his time assessing the room.  _ Listen, son, there’s a party tonight. You need to be there. Wear your suit and flirt with the girls,  _ Tora heard the echo of Vincent’s phone call in his head.  _ Some other heads of clans are going to be there and I don’t want you scaring the pussy off. Give the cranky old men a chance to think with their dicks. Be charming, my boy.  _ Tora snorted in disgust but he plastered his best come-hither smile on his face when the hostess approached him.

“Got some VIPs comin’ tonight, Stacia. Gonna need the full treatment. Section is gonna be off limits to guests tonight.” He twirled a lock of her brittle, bleached hair around the end of his finger and continued, “You think you can get the bottle service prepped in half an hour? Need about a dozen girls serving too. If you need more performers, call some girls in. Okay?” he cajoled, mentally rolling his eyes when she flushed and nodded eagerly. The ants started scurrying. 

He really hated this part of the job.

He found a spot in the corner of the VIP room and dragged a stool and card table over. He had one of the girls bring him a club soda and told her to make sure it stayed full. They’d all pretend it had vodka in it. 

The men started filtering in, taking up places around the room, leaving the big table with the plush round couch in the middle open. The thrum of the bass beat was a counterpoint to low chatter, hearty laughs and some inappropriate groans as the party started to wind up. 

Tora watched them all from his stool.

Vincent Balthuman arrived without fanfare, eyes finding Tora’s in his corner and nodding. It was nearly show time, Tora supposed. Wonderful. Vincent accepted a drink from a woman wearing a neon orange g-string and Tora saw her giggle when Vincent thanked her with a peck on the cheek. Instead of sitting, the almost innocuous looking clan leader lounged against the table with an indulgent smile, waiting for his guests to be shown in.

Tora kept his eyes sweeping the room, but now he stood. He put his shoulders against the wall, closer to a group of his own men who held dancers in their laps. 

He felt the tension in the room ratchet up when two hostesses opened the double doors and led in Vincent’s guests for the night. Two rival clan leaders. 

Enemies. 

The peace talks were beginning. Tora snorted. The talks hadn’t even started yet and everyone already knew it was all lies. There was no peace on Ares Street, only cease-fires for enough time to do business, but just like the sovereign-sanctioned wars of the past, the soldiers in the trenches all knew all it took was one wrong move and the shooting would start again.

The shooting always started again. So Tora watched.

The tension seemed to make at least one man in the Moon Dragons entourage very nervous. Interesting. 

“Gentleman, welcome!” Vincent greeted them, expansively, “Seto, James, join me. Ladies, please get these men drinks. Enjoy yourselves. You’re all my guests for the evening.” The leaders broke away from their retinues and slid onto the plush couch with Vincent. The nervous man started to follow his leader but with a quiet and sharp word, he jerked away. He stalked to a corner and brooded over a drink, watching the three leaders with resentment. 

The Tiger started prowling the room. 

When the nervous man made his move, Tora was already behind him, waiting, using the crowd like foliage to blend in. When he reached into his suit and pulled the gun, Tora sprang.

When he pointed it at Vincent, the nervous man found himself on his knees from a harsh axe kick to the back of his legs. Another nearly invisible strike to his arm and his hand went dead, and the gun clattered across the floor. He glared up at Tora, angry but when he met Tora’s cold, glittering eyes he sobbed. Tora smelled the acrid scent of urine rising from the floor.

The room fell in a hush, only the basso heartbeat of the music could be heard for a few breaths. Vincent rose to his feet and walked around to stand in front of the assassin. “Seto, isn’t this your son?” he asked in a deceptively gentle voice. “You’ve taught your children to abuse their host’s hospitality in this way?” Vincent glared down at the trembling, puling man. “Or, perhaps, he was following orders. Seto, perhaps you thought to use peace negotiations to gain the upperhand. See me struck down in my own establishment.” Vincent’s voice never wavered as he laid open the possibilities. 

Tora held the assassin by one shoulder, fingers digging in painfully, and pinned the head of the Moon Dragons to his place with his gaze.

Vincent turned to him. “Seto, you have nothing to say for yourself?”

The other man swallowed hard, “Vincent, I assure you, Kosuke acted without my knowledge. I will deal with him. There is no reason to allow his foolish actions to delay our discussion. I will make whatever reparations you deem appropriate for his breach of protocol.”

“I don’t know, Seto,” Vincent replied reasonably, “Either you knew about his behavior, and sanctioned it, and these peace talks are pointless,  _ or _ ,” Vincent paused, letting the tension ramp in the room, “or you don’t have the authority over your people you think you do, and you’ll be unable to enforce any peace you agree to. I don’t find that I have much confidence in your ability to deal with him, Seto.”

“Vincent, you  _ dare to que-” _

“Seto, your child just pulled a gun on me in my own club, and has pissed himself in fear after being brought down without much effort. I would think before you say something you can’t take back. I don’t think these talks can proceed without this matter being dealt with.”

Seto reached for his drink but set it back down when he noticed how his hand trembled. 

Vincent continued, “I can have my boy here deal with him, Seto, but it will just prove my point that you don’t have the spine to enforce your own rule. This war will continue. Your clan may be wiped out. After seeing Tora deal with your son, I am not sure we need this peace as much as you do. However, if you deal with the situation appropriately, I’m more than happy to consider your terms. What do you think?” Vincent took a long, wicked looking knife out from beneath his stylish sport coat and placed it on the table, holding Seto’s eyes with his own.

Shaking, Seto rose from his seat and came to stand beside Vincent, trembling fingers closing on the knife. Tora tensed, ready to spring at the murderous look the smaller clan leader shot his own, but he needn’t have worried. Vincent had won, again.

Seto struck with an anguished cry, and slashed his son’s throat wide open. Blood sprayed over them, and flooded onto the polished club floors.

Vincent sighed, sadly. “It seems this party is over. Son, see to the clean up would you? I need a shower.”

Tora nodded at him, stoic, his golden eyes blank. 

“Seto, James, follow Stacia to my office in the back. I’ll be there after I’ve had a chance to clean up. Stacia, please see to their needs. Tora, find me when you’re done.” Vincent strolled out of the double doors. 

Tora pointed to three of his men and beckoned them over, “Take the body to the crematory. Get a clean up crew in here. Send the extra girls home. Got it?” He walked away before hearing the response, knowing it would be done, hearing echoes of “Yes big brother Tora” behind him. He fought down his gorge.

He arrived in the private area Vincent kept in all his business while Vincent was still stripping off his bloodied clothes. “I thought I told you to see to the clean up?” Vincent barked at him, the wild rage he had been suppressing showing on his face at last.

Tora showed nothing on his face. “I’m not a janitor. It’s being taken care of.”

Vincent raised his fist as if he were going to strike but took a deep, shuddering breath and put it back down again, “You’re right, son. You’re too valuable to be cleaning blood and piss. Come join us for a drink and negotiations.”

“Can’t. Have other work for tonight. I took care of the assasination attempt like we talked about. Leaving now. I sent the extra girls home. Might want to pay them a hazard bonus tonight.”

Vincent gave him an expansive smile, “Of course, my boy. I’ll see you soon, okay? We’ll get dinner.” Tora didn’t respond, just turned his back and disappeared through the door.

Vincent’s mask dropped the second Tora left and he lifted his phone to his ear, punching a button.

“Follow him.” He growled into the phone.

  
  
  
  
  


The car roared it’s way down the empty roads, away from the neon, smoke and corruption towards peace. Tora couldn’t shake the rage and grief roiling in his chest tonight. 

He pulled into the quiet property, waving at the guard gate, and Gyu raised it for him. 

He parked and walked over to the shack, not noticing the car that drove past slowly, lights off, watching him.

The watcher punched a button on his phone, “He’s meeting with Gyu. Seems legit.”

“All right, come back home then,” Vincent’s voice instructed through the phone.

  
  


_Thud! Thud! Thud!_ Poppy eyed the door suspiciously, still trying to wrap the towel around her hair. She hid behind the door, cracking it open and letting him inside. He walked in, looking around for her and froze when he saw her standing there, wrapped in towels and nothing else. “You answered the fuckin’ door like that? The fuck you playin’ at? Do you know how dangerous that is?” He roared at her, irritated that she couldn’t seem to give a fuck about her own safety. 

Poppy tipped her head way back to look up at him, a stubborn set to her jaw. “I knew it was you, you thug! No one else knocks like they’re trying to blow a hole in the door.”

“Sweetheart, if you’re gonna challenge me it ruins the effect if you crane your neck like that.” He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to fuss. 

She sniffed at him, haughty as a princess, and turned on her heel. “Take a shower, Tiger Boy. You’re covered in blood again. The water should still be hot.” Her bedroom door clicked behind her as he shook his head in frustration.  _ Fuckin’ little hamster don’t have any sense. _ He could curse her in his head, but he could already feel the ever-present knot of tension in his chest starting to unravel.

Poppy tossed her towels on the drying rack near her closet and yanked on a pair of soft cotton panties, a tank top and the soft, fluffy, frog-print pajama bottoms she’d set out for the night. She heard the water in the bathroom start to hiss while she wound her hair into a braid over one shoulder. She supposed she was going to need to feed him. It took an awful lot of food to keep that giant man running, and Poppy was starting to think she just needed to keep snacks in her pockets whenever he was around. The picture that formed in her head made her smile softly. He really was such a big baby, not that he’d appreciate the sentiment.

Poppy meandered into her tiny kitchen, extracted the giant chef’s knife he’d gotten her for her birthday, and started slicing vegetables into ribbons. While she worked, she hummed to herself tunelessly and her hips wiggled in a silly dance. 

She was so lost in her pleasant little world she didn’t hear the shower stop or the door click open behind her. She did, however, notice when a giant, menacing shadow engulfed her, a strand of wet black hair falling onto her shoulder as he hovered behind her. 

"You busy?" Tora questioned hoarsely.

"Obviously I am. Hold your horses, food will be ready in an hour." She waved the knife in her hand around aimlessly while she spoke and he caught her wrist to keep her from hurting herself...or him. He forced the knife to the countertop, prying her thumb off the grip, not releasing her wrist as he growled, "Nothing's cooking. Good." He spun her around, trapping her hands behind her back with one large fist before crashing his lips into hers. 

Tora took her mouth with feverish need, biting at her bottom lip and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. One hand still held her hands, keeping her trapped against his shower-slickened chest and the other wrapped her braid around his hand, tilting her head back and keeping her exactly where he wanted her. He kept assaulting her with fervent kisses until he heard her give a soft moan into his mouth that made him growl. “Not gonna be gentle, sweetheart. Can’t today. ‘Kay?” His eyes bored into her, waiting for the fog to clear.

She jerked her head in a little nod, pupils still dilated like quarters, and she let out a little “Eep” when he jerked her pajama bottoms down so they pooled on the floor at her feet. Still controlling her arms he propelled her until her shoulders kissed the wall and his body surrounded her. She felt his big, warm hand slide under her shirt and plump her breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and finger until she gasped, going up on her toes to grind against him. He tugged her back by the hands, burying his nose in her neck and raking the soft skin with his teeth while that sneaky hand wandered down her belly and delved into the heat of her core. 

He worked her with two fingers, over the cloth of her panties, pressing into her until her swollen clit ached with need. In slow, languid circles that seemed to defy his earlier statement, he brought her to the edge of ecstasy...and stopped. A cry of protest echoed off the hard planes of his chest where she’d been buried. He slid up, fondling the other breast, tweaking her nipple until it came to an aching point, before diving back into her sex. He brought her up to her limit again and right before she would have spilled over, he stopped. That’s when she growled and bit his bare chest. 

Her panties came off with a wet rip, and she yelped, “Hey! I liked those.” She tipped her head back to sass him, and her breath caught in her chest at the dangerous glitter she saw. 

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He gritted the words, holding her eyes with his while he slid two of his huge fingers into his mouth, wetting them. She felt her tongue go dry as she tried to backpedal, but there was nowhere to run. She was trapped. With a swift movement he kicked her legs apart with a sweep and stabbed his fingers inside her. She came as soon as he flexed his digits, falling into him in a helpless bundle of shudders and screams. 

He didn’t stop though, oh no. He let go of her hands, holding her up by the waist as he stabbed and thrust his fingers inside her, working her open and bringing her to another peak almost immediately. She felt her legs turn to jelly when he finally withdrew them, and nearly fainted when she saw him lick them clean with an appreciative smirk. 

“Had to make sure you were ready,” he grunted at her, dropping the towel from his waist. Slumped against the wall, she perused his enormous body with drunken appreciation, from the powerful calves and thighs, the cobbled abs, the expansive chest and shoulders to the stern, dark glare of his eyes. He growled at her heated perusal, producing the foil packet he’d brought with him and ripping it open with his teeth. She focused on his hand as he rolled the condom over his stiff erection, and boldly she reached out and fisted him, sliding her hand down to the base before he groaned, picked her up as if she weighed absolutely nothing, and dropped her on his cock. 

She clutched him, nails digging into his shoulders while she adjusted to the intrusion. Even with the prep he’d done, she still felt herself stretching around him and whimpered into his chest. He soothed her, petting her hair until her body relaxed and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He groaned, triumphant, fisting her hair with one hand to pull her head back for a deep, carnal kiss. 

He drew back and powered into her, over and over, thrusting her into the wall and digging his teeth into the soft skin of her neck and shoulder. “So. Fuckin’. Perfect.” He grunted out, punctuating the words with thrusts into her body that had her crying out. “That’s it, let me hear you,” he commanded her, and grabbed her earlobe between his teeth. 

She felt mindless, her body wound tighter than she’d ever felt it. Every bite of pain drove her higher, just spicing the pleasure that was coursing up her spine. “Tora,” she panted his name into his shoulder, lights starting to spark behind her eyes, “Almost…” Poppy felt her legs start to shake and knew she wasn’t going to make it much longer. 

“Good,” he growled and reached between them, tweaking the bud of her clit with his thumb in tight little circles, “Give it to me. Now, Poppy.” 

She did. Her muscles rippled around him, squeezing him even tighter and he exploded within her with a shout, catching her in his arms and falling to his knees, cradling her to his chest while he heaved, trying to catch his breath. He kissed her hair tenderly, muttering, “Needed that,” while she lay boneless in his arms. She reached up, lazily stroking his hair away from his face and offering him a weary smile and returning, “Glad to help.”

He huffed out a small laugh as the rest of the darkness slowly leaked out of him. “Sorry for attacking ya like an animal.” He got to his feet and offered her his hand. 

Taking it and climbing back up to lean against the counter she smirked, “No you’re not.” She pulled her pajamas back on, still a bit wobbly. “Go get dressed, Tora. Let me feed you.”

“Ah, Sweetheart, you’re too good sometimes.” He kissed the top of her head gently and went to find some of the clean sweats he’d stashed at her apartment.

Later, as she lay sleeping in the quiet dark of her newly rearranged bedroom he sat up beside her, his hand gently playing with a lock of her hair. He wondered if she knew how powerful she was now. He used to fear someone would use her against him if he let himself fall. Now, he didn't care. Now, Tora would kill any motherfucker who looked at her wrong. Now, Tora would raze the fuckin' city to the ground on her bare word.

  
  



End file.
